


Christmas Miracles

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: This year, Hawke is determined not to give his family anything else they can bug him about. His career is going nowhere and there's no way he's going back to college, but at least he has a stable relationship.Except he doesn't. At least, not until Varric agrees to pretend to be his boyfriend for the weekend.What could possibly go wrong?Modern AU that literally one person asked for. You're welcome :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> First Dragon Age fic and it isn't even for one of my OTPs. Goddammit Sandro. 
> 
> Anyways, I honestly did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here.](http://scatteringmyashes.tumblr.com/)

**Day Zero**

  


“And why can’t you ask Fenris?” Isabela asked as she sipped at her Corona, grinning at Hawke’s misery. He groaned and rest his head against his cheap table. It wasn’t clear whether the fifth beer in two hours was making his head spin or if it was the situation itself, but either way Hawke’s head felt like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into it with extreme prejudice. Isabela was not nearly as sympathetic as she could be, taking more enjoyment out of the situation than anything else.

“You know why I can’t ask him,” Hawke told her. “We broke up six months ago and _everyone_ knows. If I show up with him by my side, no one will believe it. Besides,” he continued with a scowl, “Fenris would probably rather rip his own heart out than pretend to be my boyfriend after what happened.” Isabela was ruthless at times, but she wasn’t quite cruel enough to agree, even if it was quite possibly the truth. 

Instead she just sighed and took another drink. “Then what about Anders? You two dated--” She was cut off by the overly dramatic noise that came out of Hawke. It wasn’t quite a groan, but it was rather reminiscent of the noise an elephant might make while dying. “It was years ago, it couldn’t possibly be that bad--” 

“Beth told my mom about Anders and his… _passion_ for civil justice. I’m pretty sure he’s wanted even less at my house than Fenris.” Considering that Anders had gotten Hawke arrested on thankfully inaccurate terrorist charges, that wasn’t too hard to believe. Isabela nodded and leaned back, eyeing Hawke. 

“Ok, why can’t you just go alone again?” She asked. Hawke sat up and facepalmed. “No, really, explain to me again why that’s such a bad idea.” 

He held up a fist and put up one finger. “Bethany just graduated college so she’s exempt from any relationship questions for, like, the next six months. Carver has been off doing military things and honestly I don’t think anyone expects him to ever be in a relationship, so he’s off the hook. That leaves me, the oldest and most tragically single, to be under scrutiny from everyone else.” 

There was a moment of silence. Hawke took a deep swig out of his drink, still intent on using alcohol to block the night out of memory. It wasn’t clear if he’d be regretting his actions, but he knew that he’d regret the hangover. That had never stopped him in the past, though, and it wasn’t about to stop him now. Isabela leaned forward, the legs of her chair hitting the ground with a _thump._

“That was one finger. Were there other points or…?” Isabela trailed off as Hawke shook his head.

“No, but it looked really cool in my head,” he replied. Isabela sighed and finished off her drink before slamming it on the table.

“Well, if we’re going to keep talking about your hopeless romantic life, I’m going to need another drink.” She stood up and walked, slowly and hitting her hip against the table as she made her way to the kitchen. “Who else do you know? What about, oh, Zevran? He’s into everyone.” Hawke made a loud gagging sound that caused Isabela to stick her head around the corner, concerned temporarily for her friend’s safety. When she realized he was just being his usual dramatic self, she went back to popping the top off her bottle. 

“He would charge me by the _hour_ if I asked him.” Isabela laughed because Hawke was completely correct. Her friend didn’t seem to find it quite as amusing and shot her a withering glance. 

Isabela rolled her eyes and sat on the table next to him instead of her seat. “Listen, Hawke, you either go home single or you find someone willing to spend seventy-two hours with your family while pretending to be your boyfriend.” Hawke let out another groan. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” 

“Oh, Garrett, you’re single again?” Hawke said in a falsetto that was trying to mimic Bethany’s voice. “Well that’s ok, I’m sure that something in your life will start improving sooner or later. Me? Oh, I’m about to be a wildly successful doctor, seeing as I just graduated college.” He coughed and shifted his voice, this time a deep yet nasally tone that could only be his attempt at sounding like Carver. “Brother, have you thought about applying for a real job? You can’t continue supporting yourself the way you’re living. Or are you still trying to marry an older, richer man? How is that going, by the way--” 

“Since when have you cared about what Carver thinks?” Isabela asked. Hawke opened his mouth to argue but shut it and chose instead to take another drink. He glared at his beer when he realized it was empty. 

“I need, like, five more of these to keep having this conversation.” He stood up to get another but Isabela cut him off with a raised eyebrow. “What? You’ve had at least as much as me.”

“I’ve had more,” she corrected him with a wink, “but I also am not driving out to see my family tomorrow. You are.” Isabela leaned back as Hawke groaned. He held his head in his hands and shook his head.

“Thanks for reminding me about how my poor life decisions are going to come back to bite me in the ass.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Isabela replied cheerfully. The two of them fell into a temporary silence, Hawke contemplating whether his mother would believe him if he spontaneously came down with a deadly virus while Isabela wondered if it would be worth getting an Uber home or if she should just crash on her friend’s couch. 

In the end, Hawke decided he had used the ‘get out of family gatherings due to sickness’ card one too many times in the last calendar year. Isabela snapped her fingers right before he could ask if she would help him fabricate a burglary; loss of property would definitely be a good reason to not go back home for the long weekend. 

“I’ve got it,” Isabela announced, sounding all too pleased with herself. “Varric.” Hawke stared at her. “Did you not hear me? Oh dear, you must be awfully drunk.” 

“No, I heard you. It just sounded like you’re suggesting I ask _Varric_ to be my fake boyfriend for the weekend.” Isabela nodded. Hawke continued to stare. 

This went on for an almost uncomfortable amount of time, Isabela more than capable of looking Hawke in the eyes for as long as needed. The two had faced down a marauding gang of violent criminals together and played more games of strip poker than were probably humanly possible for most. Their friendship was built on mutual respect, trust, and what was most likely an unhealthy lack of respect for social niceties on both their parts. 

“Listen, you’re best friends with Varric. In fact, he’s your best friend, besides me of course. Why can’t you ask him? I’m sure he’ll think it’s funny. Probably write it in his next novel if you ask me.” Isabela held up a fist and put up one finger. “One, you two are so close it’s not like anyone would be surprised. Two, he’s not doing anything since it’s not like he’s spending the holidays with Bartrand and god knows he isn’t going home. Three, your mother loves him and he loves your mother so that’s not an issue.” 

“Four,” Hawke interrupted, “he’s dating Bianca and he’s definitely not interested in me.” It wasn’t like he had ever asked Varric out, though he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Even though Varric was a bit short and had a sarcastic streak that could rival Hawke’s, there was no denying that Varric was attractive in a sort of roguish, unconventional way. Hawke, a tall Latino who had more chest hair than some people had regular hair, could relate. 

Isabela rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t need to be interested in you and he doesn’t need to break up with his girlfriend. He just had to _pretend_ to like you.” She made a face. “Which, really, is far from the biggest lie he’s ever told.” Hawke adopted a hurt look and Isabela laughed. “I know, low blow, but it’s just too easy. But seriously, who else could you ask?” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Dorian…?” From the gagging noise Isabela made, Hawke quickly crossed that name off his mental list. He didn’t even like Dorian that much, he was just one of the few openly gay men Hawke hadn’t already dated but knew fairly well. “Fine. I’ll text Varric. But when he laughs in my face, I’m blaming you.” Isabela shrugged as Hawke patted his pockets, looking for his phone. It was hardly the worst thing Isabela had taken the blame for. 

“I can’t find my phone,” Hawke muttered, standing up and hitting his knee against the table. He swore as Isabela hopped off, walking into the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

“To get you another beer!” Hawke swore again as he hobbled off to the living room where he thought he last saw his phone.

The rest of the night ended up passing by in a blur but when he woke up there were a few things that clued him in on what happened. First, Isabela was passed out on his couch wearing nothing but her bra and panties, clothes tossed to one side. If Hawke wasn’t blatantly gay it might have been concerning, but as it was he just sighed and hoped that she hadn’t thrown up anywhere. Second, his head was pounding and there were eight beer bottles, six of which were Coronas, which meant that alcohol had definitely been a major part of his night.

Third, he had two texts from Varric on his phone. 

_Sure, but I’m definitely putting this in my next novel._

And then another, sent five minutes later.

_I’ll be at your apartment in the morning with my suitcase, boyfriend ;)_

There was a knock on the door. Hawke groaned and pressed the magic button on his coffee machine. The door could wait until after he was fit for human interaction. Apparently, though, the person on the other side disagreed because the next thing Hawke heard was the ear-splitting ring of his doorbell blaring through all four rooms of the apartment. Hawke grimaced and stumbled out of the kitchen, jeans from yesterday slung over his hips and his shirt wrinkled from a night of tossing and turning. 

He swung the door open and squinted into the light. He had to look down a little at Varric, the grinning face too cheerful for how Hawke was feeling.

“So, boyfriend-for-the-weekend, when do we leave?” At that moment, Isabela sat up and, with surprising accuracy, threw a pillow at the back of Hawke’s head. Hawke sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the doorframe. Varric nodded. “All right, that is certainly an answer. Let’s get you cleaned up, buddy.” 

With skill and poise that could only come from many days of cleaning up many hungover friends, in less than four hours Hawke found himself in his car, hurtling down the highway as Varric drove them towards his childhood home. There was old snowfall outside the car window and frost on the glass made everything seem even farther away, but that didn’t stop Varric from cursing every few minutes as someone did something illegal and dangerous. It was as if Varric didn’t do the very same thing in Hawke’s impractically large jeep. 

In the back, Hawke’s Tibetan mastiff, affectionately named Biscuit, let out a loud woof. 

“Yeah, same,” Hawke mumbled, resting his head against the cool glass of the passenger seat window. Varric had quickly made the decision that, at least for the first leg of the six and a half hour car ride, he would be driving. 

“So, when did we get together?” Varric asked. Hawke glanced at him. “What? We have to have a good backstory or no one will believe us.” 

“I still can’t believe you said yes,” Hawke admitted. Varric chuckled and leaned back as much as he could. The seat was pulled almost all the way forward just so his feet could touch the pedals. One of the biggest problems of towering over your best friend, everything was just a little bit more complicated. Hawke wasn’t looking forward to having to readjust his mirrors. 

“Well you know, this’ll be a great story later.” 

“And Bianca wasn’t concerned?” A frown appeared on Varric’s face and Hawke knew he had managed to step on a nerve. 

Varric shook it off, his usual smirk settling back on his face. He had a very good smirk, if Hawke had to describe it, a self-confident expression that made it clear that Varric had half a dozen lies on the tip of his tongue at any given moment. It was the same look that swept adoring fans off their feet and sent his books off the shelves; Varric wasn’t perhaps the _most_ famous author in the world, but he was still successful enough to be able to live just off his writing. 

“Nah, she’s fine with it. I think. I didn’t really ask her.” Hawke shot Varric a concerned look. “We, uh, actually got into a bit of a fight last week. Turns out she’s more upset about us not spending Christmas together than I thought.” Varric shrugged and fiddled with one of the many rings on his fingers. “She’ll be fine with it. Not the first fight we’ve had and it won’t be the last.” Hawke, who couldn’t understand the appeal of a long-distance relationship and had no desire to try it, just shook his head. 

“You are a better man than me.”

“Well that’s certainly true,” Varric replied with a laugh. “Now, ok, hear me out. It’s a bit of a wild tale, but your mother will eat it up. We were walking back to your car when, get this, a group of fully armed robbers came out of the shadows…” 

They ended up deciding that Varric, after a deep, heartfelt moment with Hawke, had let it slip that he was no longer dating Bianca. Seizing the opportunity, Hawke had immediately asked Varric out on a date. Still heartbroken over Bianca, Varric told Hawke that he would need time and the two agreed to not become official until later, but they still would go out for drinks sometime. On one of those nights, Varric had confessed that he had feelings for Hawke the whole time, all the way back to when he was dating Anders, but had kept them secret because of his relationship with Bianca. With her out of the way, he was free to act on his emotions. 

“And then we had a tasteful, but passionate kiss in the bar and immediately went back to your apartment--” 

“We are _not_ going to tell my mother about our sex life!” Hawke interrupted as the two of them pulled up to his childhood home. It was a small place a few hours outside the main city and, strictly speaking, it wasn’t really where he had grown up. They hadn’t lived there until he was well into his teenage years, but since going to his _technical_ childhood home was impossible, it had to do. 

There were only three bedrooms, the kitchen was part of the living room, and there were more drafts than could possibly be closed, but Hawke loved it. He definitely had not when he was actually living there, but getting out of the city and surrounding himself with nature was nice when it was more of a vacation than a real lifestyle. Biscuit liked it too, which was a plus. The only time Hawke disliked being back home was when he was also expected to play nice with his siblings for the entirety of the time; he loved them, but they could be a _huge_ pain in his side. 

“Geez, Hawke, I was going to say that we went back to your apartment to have a mature discussion about our relationship and boundaries, but if that’s what you want…” Varric waggled his eyebrows even as Hawke rolled his eyes. He decided to leave their luggage for the time being but let Biscuit out of the back. The dog, glad to be free, took off into the forest. “So where is the Hawke family? I expected to be mobbed as soon as I got out of the car.” 

Hawke shrugged and handed Varric his suitcase. It was an almost garish purple color and there was no doubt in Hawke’s mind that someone had given it to Varric as a joke. Varric, of course, now made it his trademark. There were Google searches devoted to “Varric Tethras purple suitcase” much to Varric’s amusement. 

“Bethany is probably inside with Mom but who knows when Carver will get here.” 

Varric nodded. “Am I going to have to play nice with your Uncle? What was his name--”

“Gamlen?” Another nod from Varric. Hawke shuddered. “Thankfully, no. He’s… I don’t actually know where, but he isn’t invited. My mother has more pride than that.” Suddenly, a loud _bark_ echoed through the clearing where the house was and Biscuit came running back. Following him was an older woman, brown skin filled with wrinkles from smiling and laughing, dark hair streaked with grey. 

Leandra Hawke looked at her son and opened her arms. “There you are!” She called out as Hawke ran over and pulled her into a strong hug. He lifted her off the ground and she laughed, patting his back. Hawke took it as a sign to put her back, which he did with ease; he was a big guy who worked in physical jobs which just helped his physique. Leandra had to look up to him, which she had ever since Hawke hit puberty back in high school. “You made it in time for dinner. I made too much flan for tomorrow and so we’re having that for dessert.” 

“You can never make too much flan,” Hawke argued. Leandra was about to reply when she noticed Varric, who was currently scratching Biscuit behind the ears. “Oh, yeah. This is. Well, you know Varric.” 

“Varric Tethras, at your service.” The man in question stepped forward, extending a hand and a casual grin. “Garrett’s shorter significant other.” The look on Leandra’s face went from confused to surprised to what could only be described as _gleeful._ Hawke recognized the expression only because Bethany had the same exact one whenever she was about to play a prank on one of her older brothers, something that happened with surprising frequency when they were children. 

It was not helping Hawke’s mounting anxiety about the deception whatsoever, but he was helpless as his mother shook Varric’s hand and gave him a blistering smile. 

“Oh, Varric! Of course I remember you. Garrett owes you so much, I’m so glad that you two are together. I always liked you more than that Anders.” With that, Leandra steered Varric into Hawke’s kind-of but not-really childhood home. Biscuit whined as his friend was taken away and came over to Hawke, licking his hand and leaving an absolutely obscene amount of drool all over his human.

Hawke sighed and realized that not only had he been left with all the bags, but his mother now had free reign with his supposed-boyfriend. Resigning himself to a long weekend of embarrassing anecdotes and a future as a sub-plot in one of Varric’s novels, Hawke grabbed two suitcases and walked inside. Biscuit followed, tail wagging back and forth.

As he entered the living room with its too-large Christmas tree, the smell of a good dinner wafting in from the connected kitchen, a few things hit him. 

First, there was no way his mom had gotten that giant monstrosity of a tree into the house by herself. It was so tall that the top was bent against the ceiling and the star, which had come with her when she and her husband left Mexico as newlyweds, was perched precariously on the side of the tree between a popsicle stick picture frame Hawke had made as a kid. The photograph was one of him and his father holding up Pancake, the dog Hawke owned when he was younger. 

Second, he could smell the spices his mother used when cooking bolognese, an easy but filling and absolutely delicious meal that he had practically lived on during high school. 

Third, Varric was sitting on the beat-up couch with a shit-eating grin on his face, Leandra nowhere in sight, which meant one very unfortunate thing. She had skipping the embarrassing anecdote stage and went right towards the mortifying baby picture stage. 

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Varric said as Hawke went to sit next to him. “You’ve been holding out on me, Hawke.” That only earned a snort and a roll of Hawke’s eyes. “Why are you sitting so far from me?” Varric asked. Before Hawke could point out that he always sat this far from Varric, he remembered that they were supposed to be dating. Immediately, Hawke slid over so his thigh was touching Varric’s. It was strange to be so close to his friend but it was hardly the strangest thing they’d done. 

If this was all it took to convince his mother that he was a happy, no-longer-single man, Hawke could survive the weekend. 

Bethany, brown hair trimmed into a short bob and a classy gold choker around her neck, walked in and Hawke realized the real flaw in his plan. While his mother might have been the person who raised him, Bethany was the one who always knew when Hawke was lying and she had never been above calling him out on it or, more often than not, blackmailing him. She grinned, running forward and jumping into Hawke’s arms. He was barely able to get off the couch in time, catching her with an exaggerated _oof._

“I should have guessed you’d be here,” Hawke said, smiling ear to ear. “When’d you move out of the dorms?” He asked, putting his sister down. 

“Two weeks ago, you dork. Benefits of graduating a semester early, I don’t have to fight everyone else for moving carts.” Bethany laughed and glanced at Varric. They had met before, at Hawke’s last few birthday parties as well as when the twins would come visit Hawke during vacations, but the last person who had accompanied Hawke to a family gathering was Fenris. That was when Hawke had been dating the broody man; it didn’t take a genius to put one and one together. 

“Bethany, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Congrats on graduating. Hawke wouldn’t shut up about it,” Varric said, smooth as always. He clapped his hands together as Leandra walked back into the room. “Speaking about memories, care to join us for a trip down memory lane? Your mother has promised some great stories about my partner in crime here.” Varric pat Hawke on the thigh, the only part of Hawke that he could reach without getting up. 

Hawke groaned as he spotted the cursed photo albums. “I’ll be back, I just have to go drown myself in the lake,” he mumbled. Bethany laughed. 

“Don’t be absurd. It’s frozen over by now.” 

“That’s what the ice pick is for,” Hawke replied as he started to walk out of the room, needing to grab the other suitcases out of the car. Before he could, another familiar voice rang out in the room.

“Is Garrett already threatening to off himself? That’s got to be a new record,” Carver drawled as he walked in from the front, kicking a bit of mud off on the rug in the entryway. “Hello, brother. Glad you decided to join us.” Before Carver could react, Hawke pulled him into a massive, entirely unnecessary hug. There was no way that Hawke could pick up his little brother, but he certainly gave it his best effort. 

Carver rolled his eyes but there was a twinkle of a smile in his eyes, so Hawke figured that things were good between them. “I was wondering where you were. I knew Mom had to have help bringing that beast in.” Hawke jabbed a thumb at the tree which, the longer he looked at it, was probably going to go up in flames one night. It definitely wasn’t fireproof, that much was certain. 

“You’re right in time for us to show Garrett’s _boyfriend_ all sorts of embarrassing photos from Garrett’s childhood,” Bethany told her twin. Carver raised an eyebrow and Varric waved his hand. 

“Hello. I think we met last spring break when you came to visit Hawke. That is, Garrett.” Varric shook his head. “That’s going to be annoying to remember. I’m Varric.” Carver nodded and glanced at Hawke. 

“God, it must be a Christmas miracle. Hawke has a boyfriend. Well, that at least explains your eagerness to drown yourself. At least do it after dinner. I don’t want to spend the next three hours trying to fish your body out of the lake.” Hawke shook his head as Carver walked away, heading towards the kitchen despite Leandra telling him _to leave it be, it won’t be done for another hour._

Varric was cheerfully flipping through one of the Hawke family photo albums while Bethany pointed out the most mortifying ones. From the way Bethany gleefully described the time Garrett cried when he stepped on a snail, Hawke had no doubt that the rest of the weekend would be filled with the twins’ best attempts at embarrassing him to death.

God he loved the holidays. 

  


**Day One**

“I take it back, tomorrow you can sleep on the floor,” Varric complained as he shoved Hawke off of him. Hawke, who was still only half-awake, moved about two inches. “Come on, Hawke. This bed is not big enough for the two of us.” It really wasn’t, which was why Hawke’s arm was dangling off the edge. 

He still wasn’t sure why there was something pressing into his side until Varric practically elbowed him in the stomach. Then Hawke realized that something was actually his best friend’s knee, the rest of the leg trapped underneath Hawke’s considerable bulk. “Seriously, Hawke, I’ve gotta take a piss and I’m not the one who’s going to explain to your mom why there’s--” 

“I’m getting up,” Hawke mumbled, rolling over to free Varric and not getting up at all. Varric rolled his eyes and stumbled out of the room. With him gone, the cold chill quickly hit Hawke and he found himself wide awake, though still too lazy to do anything about his discomfort. Instead, he took the precious few moments of silence to think.

The rest of last night had passed by without much of an incident, Hawke appreciating the fact that he was able to enjoy his mother’s cooking with minimal clean up afterwards. Biscuit liked the open space and he was smart enough not to get lost if allowed to roam around, so it wasn’t too concerning when he ran off at night. He seemed to have a sixth sense to come back before the last person went to sleep and Hawke had made sure Biscuit got warm water and a quick brushing before heading off to bed himself. 

With only three bedrooms, it was a bit cramped. Leandra, of course, got one to herself. The twins had to share their room but, after Garrett had left, it had turned into just Bethany’s so there was only one bed. Carver being the self-sacrificing type, and also being used to sleeping on worse, used a sleeping bag and a blow-up mattress. He made plenty of comments about how worrying about being stepped on at night was a lot less stressful than thinking he’d be blown up by a stray bomb, except their mom had finally snapped one day and told him off. 

That left Garrett’s former room, turned into Carver’s after the oldest Hawke child had spread his wings as it were and left home. For all of Carver’s many flaws, Hawke could never fault him for his pick in blankets. Still, Hawke had offered to sleep on the floor if it made Varric more comfortable. Varric had pointed out that he was being an idiot and that their lie would immediately be spotted if someone saw that, so he should just sleep in the same bed. In all honesty, it hadn’t taken much to convince Hawke of that. 

It had been strange sharing a bed with Varric, though it wasn’t like they hadn’t done similarly close things before. Maybe it was because this was Hawke’s room when he was a teenager? Regardless, it had taken Hawke what felt like hours to fall asleep, though logically it probably hadn’t been more than a few minutes. At least his family didn’t seem to suspect anything amiss about his relationship with Varric. Though Bethany had raised her eyebrows at a few things Hawke did, she had that reaction to almost everything about him so he was concerned. Varric, of course, had played his part perfectly. 

If anything, Hawke would have been tempted to say almost too well, considering Varric was dating Bianca. Then again, he hadn’t even mentioned his girlfriend on the car ride over except when reassuring Hawke that this was fine. Had Varric even told Bianca about how he was pretending to be dating Hawke for the weekend? 

“Garrett, wake up! We’re going shopping,” Bethany shouted, flinging his door open. For a moment, Hawke had flashbacks to high school when she would do exactly that, yelling at him to get up before he made everyone late. Then he remembered that he had graduated eight years ago and that it was Christmas Eve. 

He rolled over and pulled the covers over his head, intent on ignoring Bethany away. A moment later, approximately two hundred pounds of fur jumped onto the bed, tail wagging and tongue slobbering all over his face. 

“Mom wants to get stuff for dinner tonight and she said if you want to come, you better get your ass out of bed now.” Bethany leaned against the doorway, watching as Hawke unsuccessfully fought his dog off. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Behind you,” Varric grunted, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep out of his eyes. He walked past Bethany and crawled into bed next to Hawke. Without hesitation, he pressed a gentle kiss to Hawke’s lips. They were both lucky that Biscuit took the opportunity to practically tackle Varric, whacking Hawke in the face with his tail, because the expression of surprise on Hawke’s face was definitely not something anyone could have missed. 

“Yeah, well, hurry up. I made some huevos rancheros but Carver’s eaten, like, half of them.” With that, she disappeared as suddenly as she had arrived. Hawke recovered enough to push Biscuit off the bed, telling the eager dog to go bother someone else. Biscuit replied with a woof and padded off, no doubt to beg food from someone in the kitchen. 

Hawke looked at Varric, who had gotten off the bed and was sorting through his suitcase looking for something to wear. The kiss had been unexpected but at the same time it hadn’t been that bad. It wasn’t like Hawke hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss Varric. You don’t get to be friends with someone for years and not wonder about that. But it also had never happened and for it to happen so nonchalantly, as if they were actually a couple… It made weird things happen in Hawke’s stomach. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like some food before your brother eats it all,” Varric said, not even asking if Hawke slept ok or if he was ok with the kiss. “Also I thought dinner for tonight was already cooked?” 

“Mom says it’s for dinner but she really just wants to make us all spend time together,” Hawke replied automatically. He sat up and eyed Varric as the short man held up what seemed like two identical flannels. “Did you bring those to mock me?” Hawke asked, remembering all of the lumberjack jokes he had endured when he had worn the flannel Carver had gotten him one year as a birthday present. 

Varric gave him a look. “Of course not. If I wanted to mock you I’d wear a beanie and have grown my beard out.” Hawke flipped him off. It felt nice to know that some things wouldn’t change, fake relationship or not.

An hour later, the assorted Hawkes plus one found themselves piled into Hawke’s jeep. There was just enough room for all of them, but Garrett had been shoved into the backseat with Varric and Bethany while Carver, being the tallest of them all, sat in the front with Mom. It would have been more acceptable except this allowed Carver to play his music and he loved his Mexican Christmas carols. 

“So Varric, are you still friends with Bianca?” Bethany asked. She had asked all of the typical questions last night over dinner, grilling both Varric and Hawke on different aspects on their relationship. 

Hawke learned that he, apparently, loved having his feet rubbed and had given Varric a collector’s edition set of _The Hobbit_ movies for their six month anniversary. The second part, at least, hadn’t been too much of a shock. Hawke had given Varric that, but it had been for Varric’s birthday not anything romantic. Still, it was humorous to see how readily everyone else accepted their relationship as the truth. 

As far as Hawke was aware, no one was any the wiser to the fact that he and Varric weren’t actually dating. If his luck held, which it almost never did, that would remain the case for the rest of the trip. 

“Of course I am,” Varric replied. “But she and I agreed that it’s better for both of us to find someone else. The whole long-distance thing wasn’t working out.” Bethany made a sympathetic noise and asked if she could get a preview to Varric’s next book. “Ha, maybe once I have a little more written. My agent would kill me if she found out.” But he winked at her and Hawke knew that she would, no doubt, end up with a preview sooner rather than later. 

“I can’t believe you’re dating my brother,” Carver bemoaned from the front seat. 

“Carver!” Their mother exclaimed, slapping him on the arm. 

“What?” He replied, rubbing the spot gingerly. Leandra still had a mean arm from years of having to stop family members from eating early or trying to steal extra sweets out of her purse. 

“Don’t say that about your brother,” she told Carver. 

“No, it’s all right, Mom. What are you trying to say, Carver? That Varric is a much better, more successful man than me? Because you’d be entirely correct,” Hawke admitted in his usual, casual tone of voice. “Varric is a great many things, though tall is not one of them.” For that, Varric slugged Hawke in the arm, but it was definitely worth it. 

“Garrett likes to put himself down, but he’s the perfect man for me. I’ve never met anyone who can manage to annoy a room full of important people quite like him.” Hawke gave Varric a strange look. “What?” 

“That has got to be the most backhanded compliment you’ve ever given me, and that’s saying something,” Hawke pointed out. 

“God, is this what my brother sounds like when he’s flirting?” Bethany complained to air. “I thought you and Fenris were bad.”

“Bethany!” Leandra cried out from the front, glancing back at her. “Sorry, Varric, you know we’re not usually like this.” 

“No, nothing to apologize about,” Varric replied. “I like to think that you’re all so familiar with me, you don’t care about offending me. Which you haven’t, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He chuckled and looked up at Hawke with what could only be described as an adoring expression on his face. It was strange to see on Varric; he was certainly _passionate_ about a great many things, but this was perhaps the first time Hawke had seen him look like this. 

In fact, it took Hawke a moment to remember he was supposed to feel the same way and he quickly corrected his expression from one of shock to appreciation. If anyone noticed anything amiss, they said nothing. 

“I have to deal with this one, after all. Two more Hawkes are nothing,” Varric continued. That caused Bethany and Carver to burst into laughter. The twins, though they didn’t look anything alike anymore, had the same laugh and it did weird things to Hawke’s chest. It took him a moment to realize that he really had missed them and that, sometime when he was off working and trying to make a life for himself, they really had grown up. 

They had grown up and were successful and Hawke was still working at a moving company and occasionally as a bouncer, whenever he could get hours there. And he was faking a relationship for what? To make them think he actually had his life together? _God, I must really be desperate,_ Hawke thought. 

Varric elbowed Hawke in the side. 

“What?” Hawke asked. 

“You’re thinking too hard.” Hawke wasn’t sure if he should be offended, so he pretended to be and made a face.

“Yes, I do that sometimes. I know, I know, it’s a surprise.” He patted Varric on the shoulder. “Try to hide your concern, I promise I won’t spontaneously combust.” Varric was still giving him a weird look, though, and Hawke switched tactics. “Really, I’m fine. Is there something on my face?” 

“No, it’s nothing.” Varric looked like he wanted to say something else but his phone vibrated and, when he checked it, a frown appeared on his face. It was quickly replaced by his usual neutral look, but Hawke had known him for so long he could tell that it was faked. 

“Is there anything that you wanted to get for tonight or tomorrow?” Leandra asked before Hawke could ask Varric anything. He shook his head and spent the rest of the trip talking to his mom about what he wanted for dinner, which shouldn’t be a conversation lasting thirty minutes except if there was anything the Hawke-Amells took seriously, it was food. 

Hawke couldn’t complain too much. 

Besides three indirect questions about his life plans, courtesy of Bethany and Leandra, and five direct ones thanks to Carver, Hawke thought the trip went well. He didn’t really need anything from the store but Varric seemed to find it amusing when Bethany and Carver got into a five minute discussion over avocados or mangos. 

Leandra, who may be older than she once was, proved that she was still a sharp woman and not afraid to use her age to her advantage. With a smile and slight limp, she moved them to the front of an otherwise massive line. “That,” she muttered as Carver and Garrett piled the grocery bags into the back of the jeep, “is the only benefit old age has ever given me.” 

“Do you do that every time you go to the store?” Varric asked. “I’m impressed.” Leandra laughed.

“This one’s a keeper,” she told Hawke, patting him on the arm. “Now make sure you put the eggs on top. I don’t want to get home and find out half of them are broken.” 

The drive back was fine and, really, the rest of the day passed exactly as Hawke would have wanted it. He played fetch outside with Biscuit for a while, but Varric started complaining loudly about how cold he was and Hawke, playing the dutiful boyfriend, proceeded to watch three hours of Netflix inside. Then Bethany took over the television and the family was resigned to a two hour viewing of her annual Christmas documentary about the history behind the holiday. Carver suggested they build snowmen and Varric, surprisingly, agreed. 

Hawke liked to think he was a supportive friend and fake boyfriend, but Varric’s rendition of a snow-Hawke convinced him that Varric’s artistic talents remained in the realm of writing. His own version of a snow-Biscuit wasn’t much better, but Carver had just stacked three mismatched lumps of snow on top of each other, so Hawke didn’t feel too bad about his creation. 

“It’s safe to come back inside,” Bethany called out as she leaned against the door. “No more discussion of crucifixion or carbon data testing.” 

“The crucifixion I’m fine with,” Carver muttered as he stamped his feet on the floor mat. “It’s all the science that bores me.” 

“She insists on watching the same documentary every year,” Hawke told Varric. “It hasn’t changed in the past four years, but she’s convinced she’ll make it a holiday tradition if she does it enough.” 

“Well that _is_ how traditions are formed,” Varric pointed out. “But shouldn’t more than one person be involved?” The two of them lay on the couch, one of Hawke’s arms casually draped over Varric’s shoulder like they had done this a million times before. 

Which, now that Hawke thought about it, they had. Just in less, well, dubious circumstances. That is to say, usually a sports game was involved or a movie marathon. Hawke just liked sprawling everywhere and Varric was short enough that he usually sat next to him to save Anders or Fenris the grief of having to deal with all of Hawke’s limbs. 

“For that to happen, Bethany would need to get a significant other,” Hawke deadpanned. He got a sock thrown at him, but it wasn’t one of Carver’s so he considered himself luck. “I’m just saying! Even I got one!” It felt a bit bad to lie but Hawke also remembered past years when he hadn’t showed up with a plus one, so he didn’t feel as guilty as he could have. 

Carver, who was still taking off his boots, snorted. “Well she graduated college, so I still think she wins.” With that, he wandered into the kitchen and was promptly enlisted into helping peel potatoes by Leandra. Hawke sniggered, but not five minutes later he found himself cutting carrots while Varric got to chat with Bethany, so really they were the only ones who won. 

Dinner passed by in a pleasant haze of good food and better alcohol. Hawke made sure not to get too drunk. His hangover from his night with Isabela was still fresh on his mind and he didn’t want to let his judgment get too low. Last time that happened he drunk texted Varric asking if the author wanted to be his fake boyfriend for the weekend. It hadn’t blown up in Hawke’s face yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time. 

After dinner, of course, with the dishes cleaned off the table and the leftovers packed away, Bethany pulled out their old Pictionary game. 

Carver, who had as much artistic talent as a rock, groaned. “Do we have to?” He asked even as he reached over to help unpack the game, knowing his fate was already decided for him. Playing Pictionary wasn’t so much a holiday tradition as it was a _painful_ tradition, which was to say that Hawke was almost certain nobody enjoyed it, but everyone was just sadistic enough to like seeing the others suffer that they did it anyway. 

Well, Leandra liked to say it brought them together as a family, but everyone knew that was a lie and she really just had a competitive streak a mile wide.

Hawke just let out a heavy sigh and set his hot chocolate aside. He motioned for Varric to sit next to him. “I will have you know that I am the reigning champion,” Hawke added with a smug grin. 

“Really? I didn’t think you could draw,” Varric pointed out. 

“I can’t, but neither can Carver. Mom would win, but we all gang up on her because she went to two years of art school.” Carver looked like he wanted to argue but he also knew he had no ground to stand on so he stayed quiet. 

“What about Bethany?” Varric asked, sliding into his seat and stealing a sip of Hawke’s hot chocolate. 

“Bethany is going to kick everyone’s ass this year,” the aforementioned Hawke declared as she sat across from her oldest brother. Carver gave her a disgruntled glare and started handing out the dull pencils and half-used sheets of paper. Garrett just laughed.

“We’ll see about that. Varric and I are so close, we can practically read each other’s mind,” he said moments before realizing how easily that could backfire. Varric stared at him. 

“Really? Who’s said that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Hawke wasn’t sure if the look he was getting was trying to tell him to cut his losses while he could or that this was a brilliant idea that was totally going into Varric’s next book.

So, naturally, Hawke just dug a deeper hole. “Everyone, Varric, when you aren’t there. They’re always surprised by how we finish each other’s--”

“Sentences? Really, Hawke?” Varric leaned in close to him. _“Really?”_

“Yes. Really.” Hawke grinned and kissed Varric. He decided that he liked kissing Varric; it was easy, there weren’t any confusing expectations, and it wouldn’t complicate their relationship further. Besides, Varric had nice lips, probably because he used chapstick all the time, and he was quite attractive. Hawke had been noticing that about Varric, recently. 

Things Hawke, so far, had noticed: the way Varric’s nose scrunched when he laughed, the way he slapped his knee when he found something particularly funny, the way he glanced at Hawke when someone said something stupid but it was too rude to point out. The feeling of their lips together, Hawke having to lean over more than he did with any previous partner, holding back the urge to reach up and cup Varric’s jaw with his hand… 

_Shit. I like kissing Varric._

“Hawke, you ok? You look like you just swallowed something sour,” Varric said, sounding concerned. Hawke shook his head and plastered on a smile and resolutely did not think about how he wanted to kiss Varric. 

“I’m totally fine,” he lied. 

“Uh huh. Sure.” There was no way Varric was buying it, but Leandra came over with a cup of espresso because yes, Varric was the kind of person who drank coffee at night, and that grabbed his attention. 

Thankfully, because Hawke was pretty sure that it was not normal to be so into kissing your best friend. He casually sent Isabela a flurry of texts when he thought no one was looking. The first one read: _Varric?!_ And the others were just a combination of panicked emojis, exclamation marks, and question marks of both the Spanish and English variety. 

“Ok, Garrett, tonight is the night I dethrone you,” Bethany declared. Hawke rolled his eyes.

“You can certainly try,” he replied. 

Hawke lost Pictionary by a landslide to Bethany, but he still beat Carver so he wasn’t too upset. He blamed his loss entirely on Varric, whom Hawke decided was too distracting to be allowed to play board games ever again. The fact that Varric’s facial features had never been a problem during Thursday night poker games wasn’t something Hawke really wanted to dwell on. He decided that pretending to be boyfriends with someone was just a bit much for him, that’s all. He wouldn’t do it again. 

_I really want to keep kissing him. Shit._

“Is everything ok?” Varric asked as they got ready for bed. “You seemed distracted during the game. Was it something I said?” He frowned and Hawke realized he was legitimately concerned. Not that Varric was never worried about him, but there usually wasn’t anything more pressing than the usual “oh no, Isabela is cheating at poker again” or the “Anders is in prison again, who’s going to pay his bail this time” problems. 

“No? Why, should I be offended by something?” Hawke asked, desperately hoping that Varric didn’t mention their fake relationship or the fact that they had kissed multiple times that day.

“Well, I know I kissed you a few times without asking and I just wanted to make sure you were fine with that.” Varric shifted and Hawke wondered if this was actually making the infallible Varric Tethras nervous. “I don’t want this fake relationship to harm our real friendship. Besides, I think your family would be fine if you _were_ single,” Varric added. Hawke shrugged. 

“It’s fine, really. I know I’m a great kisser so don’t worry if you want to add a few extra in, just for the experience,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows even as he mentally screamed. Why had he said that? 

Varric just rolled his eyes and pulled the sheets over himself as he crawled into bed. “And oh, wear socks tonight. Your feet are too cold for you not to.” Hawke flipped him off even though Varric couldn’t see him. It was the principle of the matter, after all. 

Making sure Varric wasn’t looking, he replied to the slew of texts that Isabela had sent him. She must have been a little drunk because they were full of an impressive amount of typos. That in of itself was impressive before Hawke remembered that Chanukah was also during Christmas this year, so Isabela must have drunk with Merrill’s relatives as well as her own. Still, she got her point across in the first, best-worded and easiest to understand text.

_What abprt vArric? Hawke pls telll me u havent started LIKING VArric_

The rest really just went downhill from there, her most recent text being nothing but the eggplant emoji over and over. Hawke liked to think his reply was much better, but it also took him the better part of ten minutes to write because he kept deleting everything and starting over from scratch. 

_So you’re drunk as fuck I think or fast asleep by now, but I may have been thinking about how nice it is to kiss Varric and the weekend has barely started but I think I may be getting a crush on my best friend who isn’t you._

Then, just to make sure Isabela knew why he was sending these, he added:

_Please advise._

Feeling like doing anything but sleeping in the same bed as Varric, Hawke got in anyway. He made sure to put on his warmest pair of socks. 

  


**Day Two**

“Look up you two!” Bethany pointed to the bundle of green that hung over Hawke and Varric’s chairs. It definitely hadn’t been there the day before and it took Hawke’s half-asleep brain a moment to realize what it was. Of course. Hawke almost let out a groan before remembering he was supposed to be dating Varric and be excited about kissing him. The way Varric looked, though, wasn’t any better. If anything, Varric looked almost green.

“Sorry, Bethany, I think I’m going to pass. I’ve been feeling sick ever since last night,” Varric lied. At least, Hawke assumed it was a lie because Varric hadn’t mentioned anything like that to him. Bethany looked disappointed but not like she suspected anything, but she might have pushed them further except then Leandra came in, clapping her hands together.

“Good morning and merry Christmas, my wonderful children! And you too, Varric.” She ruffled Hawke’s hair like he was five and left a large kiss on Carver’s cheek. Bethany actually stood up and hugged their mom, making the two boys look like asses. 

“Don’t kiss Varric, Mom. He’s feeling sick,” Bethany warned. 

Leandra frowned as she pulled away from her daughter. “Do you want any medicine? Or tea? I can make you plain eggs and toast if you think that’ll help at all?” Varric shook his head and stood, grabbing his coffee as he headed back to the bedroom.

“I’m just going to lie down for a few minutes. Don’t stop enjoying yourselves on my account.” With that, he disappeared into the room. Hawke frowned, feeling fairly put out. Leandra sighed and went to sit at the head of the table. 

Since Bethany had woken up first, she had taken it upon herself to get breakfast ready. They were simple breakfast burritos with chorizo, but considering the first time she had tried cooking she had set the oven on fire, Hawke was impressed. He was less pleased with the mistletoe that had found its way above his seat since he was one hundred percent sure it was the cause of Varric’s sudden illness, but he resolved to deal with that later. If something was wrong, if Varric was maybe feeling cold feet surrounding the deception, they’d have to talk about it later. 

Isabela hadn’t texted Hawke back and he resolved not to worry about that quite yet. He had enough on his plate, literally and figuratively; his appetite had only grown as a teenager and it didn’t seem to get the memo that he was older and couldn’t eat as much as he used to without it showing. But it was Christmas and he was going to enjoy some home cooking, dammit. 

“This is really great,” Carver said, perhaps the first genuinely nice thing he had said the entire weekend. “Do you remember the first time you tried cooking? It was pancakes or eggs or something. You wanted it to be a surprise for Mom and Dad’s anniversary--”

“And I set the oven on fire, I know.” Bethany shook her head and waved a hand. “I’ve gotten a lot better. College will do that to a person. At least I’m not still relying on microwaveable meals and Chinese takeout.” There was a collective shudder on her side of the table but Hawke couldn’t help but wonder if today was going to be the “pick on our older brother” day. “What about Varric, Hawke?” 

“What about him?” He snapped back defensively. Bethany frowned and crossed her arms. 

“I’m just curious how well he cooks, geez. Did you two fight last night or something?” Realizing that she was interested, Hawke felt bad. His shoulders slumped and he let out a soft sigh.

“Sorry, I just always assume you’re going to try to find a way to prove that I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.” Bethany and Carver both exchanged a look that didn’t do much to change Hawke’s mind. Neither of them seemed willing to say anything and Leandra eyed them as she ate, but Carved was the first to break. 

“Fine,” he said, setting his burrito down, “if you won’t say it, I will.” He looked at Hawke straight on. It wasn’t intimidating, though perhaps if Hawke didn’t have memories of three year old Carver crying after his paleta fell on the ground it would have been. “We don’t need to prove that you have no life direction, you regularly tell us that.” Hawke opened his mouth, offended, and then closed it because Carver was absolutely right. 

“You aren’t going to stop him?” Hawke asked his mother, going for that angle instead. “In the name of Christmas spirit at least?” 

“Well you have no trouble defending yourself every other day of the year,” she pointed out. “I don’t see why this one would be any different.” She wiped her hands on her napkin and gave him a small smile. “I am very happy for you and Varric. You seem to work together. Much better than any of your previous boyfriends.”

“I thought you liked them!” Hawke cried out, choosing to focus on that part rather than the rest of what she said. 

Leandra shrugged. “I liked Anders until he got you arrested.” 

“Fenris never seemed very happy,” Bethany pointed out. Carver frowned.

“Which one was he?” Bethany just motioned to herself and scowled. Carved nodded. “Oh, right.” 

Hawke sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t realize that my family was secretly scheming against me. Is there anything else I should know before I go make sure that my -- my current boyfriend isn’t dying?” He side-eyed his siblings. “Did you poison him last night?” 

“Of course not,” Bethany replied at the same time as Carver said, “Why would we tell you?” 

“Thanks,” Hawke said as he stood up. He put his dishes in the sink and grabbed an extra burrito for Varric. “Thanks for the confidence booster, guys. Great to know I have such a supportive family.” His usual sarcasm bled through, though, and he was sure to hit Carver in the shoulder with his elbow to really ensure they knew he was joking. With that, he walked to his sort-of childhood room.

Hawke knocked on the door and waited for Varric to reply before walking in. Fortunately Varric wasn’t a catatonic mess on the bed nor was he looking at all sick, making Hawke certain that his friend had been lying. He was typing furiously on his phone and there was a dark look on his face that Hawke had only seen once before, when Fenris and Hawke were being harassed at a bar for being gay. It was the expression of a man prepared to throw down and Hawke felt a surge of concern. If Varric was that upset, then Hawke needed to know what he had done wrong. 

“I brought you food,” Hawke said, stepping in and closing the door. Varric glanced up at him and nodded, motioning to the bedside table. 

“Set it there. I’ll eat it later.” He didn’t say anything else, just went back to his phone. Hawke hesitated but did so. Varric finished writing whatever it was and let out a heavy sigh, putting his phone on the bed next to him. “I appreciate the concern, Hawke, but I don’t really want to talk right now.” 

“Was it something I did?” Hawke asked. “I know you were worried about _me_ being offended, but pretending to be sick to get out of kissing me really is sending mixed signals here.” Varric sighed and shook his head.

“No, no, you’re fine… Your mom took this photo of us yesterday and Bianca saw,” he explained, picking his phone back up and pulling up the picture in question. “I told her about us and she said she was fine but I guess she’s upset suddenly.” He handed his phone to Hawke, who hadn’t been checking social media since he wasn’t reliant on it like Varric was. Honestly, if not for Snapchat he probably wouldn’t have bothered with a smart phone at all. He rarely went on Facebook and anyone he talked to he texted, except for Merrill who didn’t have a phone at all. 

The photo itself wasn’t incriminating at all. There was nothing too different about it; Hawke had his arm over Varric’s shoulder and the two of them were looking at something off-camera. The caption, however, was a cheerful “Garrett and his new boyfriend!” and it already had over one hundred likes, thanks to the fact that Leandra was able to tag her son and Varric. Hawke winced. If Bianca saw then, well, he could understand why she might be upset about it. 

Like whenever emotions and relationships came up, Hawke wasn’t sure what to say. Anders had said that Hawke just displayed how he felt more with actions while Fenris had, rather hypocritically, called Hawke someone “with the emotional maturity of a toddler.” Regardless of whether they were polite or completely accurate, there was some truth in both of their critiques. Hawke didn’t know how to comfort people. He didn’t know how to be gentle with emotions and he didn’t beat around the proverbial bush. No, he just charged in and hoped for the best.

That, Hawke sensed, would not be the best strategy with Varric. 

“Listen, Hawke, I’ll be fine and Bianca will be fine. I just need a while to sort this out,” Varric said, taking his phone back. Hawke nodded and started to walk out of the room, hesitating when he reached the doorway.

“If you want someone to just talk to, I’m more than ready to listen. And if you want me to talk to Bianca…?” Hawke wasn’t sure what he could do to help since he was the one who got Varric into this situation in the first place, but he felt an immense amount of guilt.

“No thanks, but I appreciate it.” Sensing that Varric just wanted him gone, Hawke left. 

He felt his phone buzz once, then twice, signaling that texts had arrived. Dreading them, Hawke glanced at his screen to see that Isabela had sent him two messages. 

_Sorry i drank so much last night i dont remember sending half of those_

And, somehow even less helpful: 

_Also idk kiss him or tell him how u feel or live with it as a secret forever those are your choices_

Hawke sighed. 

_I’m doomed_

He figured that really conveyed how he was doing without going into the details. Before he could walk back to the kitchen and help with the clean up, another vibration shook his phone. 

_so u like him date him for real what could go wrong_

“Garrett, is Varric feeling any better? I have some advil if he needs it,” Leandra called down the hall, spotting her son standing there and looking a bit like an idiot. Hawke shook his head and pocketed his phone, walking over to her. He took the towel and half-dried plate from her and kissed her on the forehead. 

“He’s taking a short nap. I’m sure he’ll feel better after that,” he lied. His mother accepted that as an answer and, freed from doing any washing up, went to make sure Carver hadn’t opened any of his presents early. 

Old habits died hard, after all. Hawke was starting to think that maybe he needed some new friends or at least ones who didn’t enable him to make bad life decisions like getting into a fake relationship. _It’ll be funny next year. When none of this is happening. And Varric is back to happily dating Bianca like he was before all of this. And you don’t imagine kissing him. Or cuddling with him. Definitely not kissing him under mistletoe while cuddling._

“What’s on your mind besides your boyfriend?” Bethany asked as Hawke tried, unsuccessfully, to push open a pull door on one of their cabinets. “I’m sure he’ll feel as good as new by this afternoon. Carver didn’t actually poison him. We actually like him as your friend and as your boyfriend.” Hawke made a face and finally put the plate where it was supposed to go. “Really, though,” Bethany continued, ignoring him a per usual, “Varric makes you happy. Not that Anders and Fenris didn’t, but it’s different when you’re with Varric.”

“In what way?” Hawke asked, both because he was a glutton for punishment and because he genuinely wanted to know. It was rare that he talked to either of his siblings about his relationships and to know that they had such strong opinions… Well, it was both gratifying and a bit terrifying. 

“Well, Anders was really intense, right? And you’re much more laid back. We could tell that you tried to be as passionate as Anders about everything, but that’s just not who you are. It was kind of painful, actually, seeing you talk about abortion.”

“I do care about reproductive rights,” Hawke spluttered. “You know I do!” 

Bethany nodded even as she flicked a bit of soap at him. “Of course you do, but you aren’t the type to go to rallies or help hand out fliers. And that doesn’t make you a bad person, that’s just not who you are.” 

Hawke supposed she had a point but he still huffed. “Ok, what about Fenris?” There was a pause in conversation as Bethany scrubbed at a particularly difficult to clean plate. It was probably Carver’s. 

“Well,” she eventually said, “Fenris was almost the opposite. Around him you seemed almost scared to care about anything. Like you were afraid of his disapproval more than you wanted to get his approval.” Hawke frowned. He had never told anyone, but he had really thought that Fenris was the one for a while. Bethany saw his expression and quickly clarified. “Not that you seemed unhappy with either of them. Mom or I or even Carver would have stepped in if we thought that. But you weren’t yourself. You weren’t the Garrett who makes lumpy snowmen until he can’t feel his fingers or eats so many cookies that he has sit down for ten minutes. You were too busy decrying bad business practice in Asia or trying to be cool.” 

Bethany handed him the now-clean plate. Hawke dried it off, trying to understand what she meant. He knew that he had changed a little to try to please both of his most recent exes. But he had never considered that it had been noticeable. And when Anders and Fenris had broken up with him, they had listed much different reasons. Except for his emotional bluntness, they had a variety of complaints ranging from 'you don’t shower enough' to 'you occasionally trivialize my past experiences and avoid talking about them because they make you uncomfortable.' If he dated Varric for real, would he change? Would he shift his personality and interests to try to please the shorter but equally hairy man?

Hawke snorted at the thought. No, he would still sass and snark Varric and they would both probably spend too much time enabling the other to do stupid shit. The only difference would be that they’d kiss and do other things more. And, he supposed, they’d argue about who was paying for drinks beyond their usual 'you may be a successful writer but _I’m_ the one with a stable job.' Everything else from their conversations to how they spent time together would remain the same. 

And yet. Varric clearly was trying to salvage his relationship with Bianca and it wasn’t Hawke’s place to get between a couple who had been together for literally years. They had been dating for longer than Hawke had even know Varric. What kind of a person would Hawke be if they broke up because of him? 

_God, they’re going to break up because of me and I’m going to feel terrible about it._ The realization hit Hawke a moment before a second one steamrolled over him and left him a burning pile of crushed human bits on the metaphorical highway. _I want them to break up so I can date Varric._

“Garrett, are you ok? Do you think you’re coming down with what Varric has?” Bethany asked. Hawke did feel like he was going to be sick, but he shook his head. 

“Once you’re done washing up, we can open -- Garrett, what’s wrong?” Leandra walked in at that moment, her smile instantly turning to a frown when she saw the look on Hawke’s face. Bethany said that she thought Hawke was getting sick and his mom walked up and checked his forehead with the back of her hand. “I don’t feel you heating up. Maybe it’s the same thing Varric has.” 

“I’m fine,” Hawke insisted. “Just a random headache from talking about my past relationships with someone.” He glared at Bethany, though he did feel a bit bad for throwing her under the bus. It was fine, he reasoned, since she had spent the last few holidays grilling him on his life ambitions, of which he had none. 

She gave him an unapologetic look, no doubt sensing that he was lying through his teeth, but at least she didn’t call him out on it. Leandra sighed and shook her head before leaving, muttering something about stubborn sons. Hawke’s phone buzzed again and he instinctively checked it before some part of his brain told him that it was probably Isabela just bugging him more.

_Bianca and I broke up._

It was definitely not Isabela. 

“I’m going to go check on Varric, but we can open presents right after ok?” Hawke set the towel and plate on the counter, knowing Carver would probably just get summoned to finish up, and headed right for the bedroom. He didn’t bother knocking this time, walking straight in and going to Varric’s side. Surprisingly, the man didn’t seem too upset, though Hawke could count the number of times Varric legitimately cried on one hand. “Hey… I’m sorry,” Hawke said, at a loss for words as per usual.

Varric shrugged and sighed, leaning back against the bedframe. “Honestly, Hawke, you probably did me a favor. Things were going south with Bianca. They have been for years. We just were both too scared to back out of it now.” He toyed with the ring he wore around his neck. Hawke knew that it had been a gift from Bianca, one that didn’t fit any of Varric’s fingers yet he never got it resized. “You’re a good friend, Hawke. And I’ve been having a lot of fun with our fake relationship.” A small smile appeared on Varric’s face. “It’s reminded me what dating should be like.” It wilted a bit, but the shadow of it remained. “Go celebrate with your family, Hawke. Tell them I’m sick or something.”

“I can stay here with you,” Hawke insisted, though he really did want to spend time with his family. He rarely got to see them and, even though he dreaded their visits and regularly insulted Carver, they were the most important people in his life. Even his friends were second to his family, though he liked to pretend otherwise. 

Varric knew this and shook his head. “No, no, I won’t keep you. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do anyway, and thinking is best done alone.” He scratched his chin. “Though I wouldn’t say no if you found a way to sneak in some bourbon or, to be frank, anything that’ll get me drunk. For, ah, strictly medicinal purposes of course.” He winked at Hawke and, to anyone else, it might have seemed genuine. But Hawke had seen the real deal and what Varric summoned up was a mere ghost of it.

He might be pretending that he wasn’t upset, but this would affect even the infallible Varric Tethras. There was nothing Hawke could do about it but hope that this didn’t ruin his friendship with Varric too. 

It was a bit relaxing to exchange gifts. Carver had given Garrett a pair of socks with dogs on them, which was probably one of the sweetest things he had ever done. Bethany had gotten several new books and a joint present from all three of her family members, which were season tickets to a theatre that she had always wanted to go to. The smile on her face made it worth spending the one hundred dollars. 

“Thanks you guys,” she said, hugging each of them tightly. “I really love it.” 

Leandra had gotten a spa trip, paid for by the twins, while Garrett had given his mother a fancy leather-bound notebook. It felt a lot like elementary school, when Bethany and Carver plotted to spoil their parents but conveniently forgot to include Garret in their plans. Still, Mom didn’t say anything and Hawke knew she did appreciate him too, so he didn’t feel too bad. 

He got Carver a bright green gym bag. The fact that Carver looked like he actually would use it made Hawke both happy but also a little concerned for his brother’s eyesight. “Well of course I’m going to use it,” Carver said when Bethany asked him about it. “Garrett’s going to wear the dreadful socks I got him.” 

“We got something for Varric too, but if he’s feeling sick he can open it later,” Leandra said, motioning towards the last package under the tree. Hawke nodded, going to get it while precariously balancing a too-small Santa hat on his head. 

“I really hope he feels better,” Bethany added. “You two make each other happy.” Hawke forced a smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, I think we make each other happy too.” _God I hope Varric doesn’t hate me. It’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t hate me._ He leaned back against the couch, sitting next to a pair of socks, a self-help book, and a gas card. “He likes Biscuit too,” Hawke said as almost an afterthought, scratching his dog behind the ears. His dog was wearing a matching Santa hat and looked much more adorable. Hawke pulled up Snapchat and took a picture, much to his family’s amusement. 

He hesitated before sending it to Varric as well. He also sent it to his family members, earning an eyeroll from Carver and Bethany. 

“How do I save this again?” Leandra asked, holding her phone out for Hawke to mess with. “Thank you,” she said as he handed it back, having downloaded the photo for her. 

“Hawke, I’m in the other room, I’m not dead!” Varric shouted. Hawke chuckled and stood. Biscuit, thinking he wanted to play, stood. His tail wagged back and forth, whacking Hawke in the leg. 

“I’ll go drag him out,” he told his family, “I’m sure he feels well enough to open a few gifts.” 

“Don’t force him if he’s really sick,” Leandra added as Hawke walked away. Biscuit followed, letting out a happy _woof._

He stopped by the kitchen and grabbed a half-empty thing of whiskey that was probably being saved for that night. Varric could use it more right now anyway, and it wasn’t like there wasn’t other alcohol in the house. In one hand he had the bottle, in the other he had the present for Varric from his family. Hawke had stored his gift for Varric in his luggage so it was still in the bedroom. Unless Varric had found it, of course, and opened it already. 

“I got you something.” Hawke tossed Varric the bottle. It was reassuring that he caught it easily and twisted the cap off, taking a swig of it before he even said hello. “And so did my family, funnily enough.” The present Hawke set on the bed before sitting on the edge. “I have no idea what it is but they’d be touched if you open it in front of them.” 

“So you brought it in here for me to open instead?” Varric questioned, raising an eyebrow. Hawke shrugged.

“Well, if Carver had anything to do with it then you might have to pull up some of that false excitement and I didn’t want you to have to do that now.” Varric chuckled, shaking his head and standing. He took another gulp of the whiskey. His tolerance was one of the highest Hawke had seen, but already Varric was a rosey red. “Really, you don’t need to entertain my family. Though if you stay in here longer, my mom might insist on giving you medicine and some of her famous tea.” 

“No, if I stay in here and mope I’ll just be miserable the whole day. It’ll help to distract myself. But, ah… Oh never mind.” He waved a hand in the air as Biscuit came over, resting his head on Varric’s leg. “You’re wearing matching hats,” Varric realized, scratching the dog under the chin. 

“Call it a Hawke tradition. A Garrett Hawke tradition.” He was probably too smug about that, but he was proud of his dog. “Now come on, if my job is to make sure you don’t mope I’m starting by dragging you out of here.” Hawke stood and tugged on Varric’s arm, pulling him to his feet. Varric smiled and it was probably the first real smile of the day.

“I’d like that.” They shared a look for a moment but Hawk couldn’t understand what he was seeing. And it was gone before he could identify it. “Merry Christmas, Hawke.” Varric leaned in and hugged him tight. As they pulled away, Varric pressed a soft kiss on Hawke’s cheek. Then he walked away. Hawke’s phone buzzed. 

_whats going on r u making out yet_

Hawke sighed and pocketed it without replying to Isabela. She’d live without some entertainment for a few hours. 

  


**Day Three**

“This was a nice trip,” Varric said as Hawke did all the hard work, putting the bags back in his keep. He was leaning against the doorway, casually chatting with Carver and Bethany. Leandra was packaging leftovers for the trip home, as if it took days rather than hours. Hawke wasn’t going to turn it down, though. He loved his mother’s cooking and it wasn’t something he got often enough. “Thank you for letting me into your home.” Varric sounded as right as rain, a metaphor Hawke didn’t really understand but it fit. 

“Oh no, thank you for coming! It’s great to see you again,” Bethany replied. “Sorry you were sick for so long yesterday. I’m glad you liked your present. What did Garrett get you, anyway?” She asked. Varric winked at her. 

“I don’t kiss and tell, Bethany.” She laughed even as Carver groaned. 

“What are you telling them?” Hawke asked, walking over and pulling his not-boyfriend into a hug. “Whatever he’s saying, it’s a lie,” he told his siblings. 

“Uh huh, whatever you say, Garrett,” Carver deadpanned. “Well, Varric, I’m glad we have someone keeping our older brother in check. Try to stop him from making too many poor decisions with his life.” Varric laughed. 

“Well I’m afraid I can’t help very much with that,” he confessed, “Seeing as Hawke does most things without consulting others in the first place.” Hawke protested the accusation, but since it was entirely correct he didn’t have much ground to stand on. “It’s ok, dear, I’ll always be there to pull you out of trouble.” 

“I’m glad someone will,” Carver muttered as Leandra came out, arms laden with bags of tupperware containers. 

“And you’re sure you won’t need anything else?” She double checked, handing them all to Hawke. He nodded. 

“I’m certain, Mom. It’s a really short drive, really. Nothing I haven’t done a million times before. And I have better company than most of my trips.” Varric raised an eyebrow at Hawke, taking one of the bags and rummaging through it. He pulled out one of the sweet rolls and began to eat it, giving Biscuit a scrap when the dog came to beg for food. “Well, usually it’s just me and Biscuit. And I love him, but he’s not a great conversationalist.” 

“I think that’s the first time that you’ve ever said anything bad about your dog. Ever.” Varric had a point. 

“You should get going so you don’t hit traffic,” Bethany cut in before Hawke could go on more about his love for Biscuit, something he did fairly regularly and with mixed results. “We’ll see you again for your birthday, right?” 

Hawke nodded. “Well, as long as you come visit me.” 

“In your dingy apartment?” Carver snorted, but they all knew he’d show up and complain the whole time, even if he enjoyed every minute. “But yes, get going. We’d hate for you to get stuck in traffic.” He stepped forward and hugged Hawke. He acted like it was physically painful, but that was just how Carver was. 

“Love you too, little brother,” Hawke teased. He hugged Bethany next, a bone-crushing hug that she did her best to return. She rolled her eyes and pretended she wasn’t about to cry like she did every time they parted ways. Leandra was next, giving her son a surprisingly strong hug considering her thin frame. “I love you, Mom. Happy Christmas.” 

“I love you too, Garrett. Stay safe, ok?” She looked at Varric and opened her arms. He hugged her back. It was amusing because she was just taller than him and he was probably the first person she had hugged who was shorter than her for years. “Keep him safe and _somewhat_ out of trouble.” 

Varric laughed. “I’ll do my best, ma’am, but you know how Hawke gets. Once he has an idea, he just can’t shake it.” Hawke glanced at him and Varric shrugged. It was true and they both knew it. 

Before long, the two of them found themselves back on the road. Free from worrying about his family overhearing, Hawke was finally able to ask the question that had been on his mind since Varric finally opened his presents. “Are you going to use that book at all?” He asked, referring to the dog training manual that only Carver could have gotten for Varric. 

The shorter man shrugged and pat his backpack, where the book and the rather nice coffee mug that Bethany and Leandra had gotten him were stored. “I think I’ll find something for it,” he replied coyly. “As for your gift, now, that might be the first thing to go.” Hawke laughed. He had jokingly printed Varric a paper stock business card that read “one free go to jail with your best friend card” in the style of a Monopoly card. Varric’s real present was a nice fountain pen that probably would be used once before being set aside and used as decoration for the next ten years. 

Still, Varric seemed to like it as much as Hawke had liked the digital picture frame Varric had given him, or the collection of fuzzy socks with dogs on them that had come attached. Hawke was a simple man with simple pleasures and a lot of pictures that needed to be shared with the world. If most of them were focused on Biscuit, well, that wasn’t a _bad_ thing in Hawke’s mind. 

The trip back seemed both longer than the other and shorter. Instead of talking they spent most of the drive in silence, the soft croon of shitty holiday music accompanying the _woofs_ that Biscuit let out whenever he had to go to the bathroom or felt the need to make noise. Soon, Hawke was pulling up in front of Varric’s apartment. The sun was just setting and there was a light snowfall. If they were really dating, this was where Hawke would lean over and kiss Varric, but they weren’t.

They hadn’t been at all and something tugged in Hawke’s chest. It wasn’t fair, because he was also the reason Varric was now single, but he wanted to be the reason Varric was no _longer_ single as well. Maybe it was selfish but, well, no one had ever accused Hawke of being selfless before. 

Hawke turned the radio off and the two of them sat in silence. 

“Well, this is it,” Varric said. “I had fun, Hawke, really. Even with the break up, this was one of the best weekends I’ve had in awhile.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and motioned for Hawke to open up the trunk. “Y’know, maybe in a few weeks we should try this again.” 

“Try what?” Hawke asked, confused. Varric stared at him before realizing that yes, Hawke really didn’t know what Varric was talking about.

“This.” Varric leaned forward and kissed Hawke. “Merry Christmas, Garrett.” Then Varric got out of the car, grabbed his things, and walked up to his apartment. 

Hawke sat in his seat, stunned. He decided that it was safe to say that Varric didn’t hate him. His phone buzzed; it was a message from his mother.

_I hope you got back safe! Tell Varric that we loved having him over. Hope to see him next year._

There was the small but blossoming hope in Hawke’s chest that maybe this wouldn’t be the last time he and Varric made the holiday drive.


End file.
